The Taming Of The Cat
by mandaree1
Summary: (Based of the animated series episode 'A tail of Two Kitties') The story of how Sabrina tamed the shrew- or, in this case, the cat-witch Scheherazade.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Sabrina or Sabrina The Animated series**

**Title: The Taming Of The Cat**

**Summary: (Based of the animated series episode 'A tail of Two Kitties') The story of how Sabrina tamed the shrew- or, in this case, the cat-witch Scheherazade. **

**Authors Note: Scheherazade is a cat-witch who appeared in a one-off episode of the animated series, not an OC. =) Frenchie is a character Sabrina assumed to show Salam the unfaithful witches true self. If you haven't watched the episode, you might want to, to better understand what's going on.**

**Warnings: Femslash.**

**...**

She's not sure how it really started. They'd gone from hostile magic duels to loud raging arguments to glaring to friendly chatting, all in one or two weeks.

Eventually, she starts coming around as Frenchie. They get into an argument, she kicks the cat out of her house. The next day, she comes around as Sabrina. It goes on and off for a few weeks, until eventually Frenchie is the only form she ever really wears around her, and by then she's relaxed enough she doesn't really care. He looks exactly the same as he did before, minus the big, overly done, mustache. And that's fine, she didn't really like mustaches.

* * *

"Vould you do me ze honor of accompanying me out to dinner?" The accent was horrible, so obviously fake that any other day it would have made her giggle. Today was not that day.

"What?" She was on one knee, one of her paws in hers, like she was offering marriage instead of dinner. "Are you asking me out?"

She rapidly shook her head. "No, no. I'm merely asking if vou would be my _very_ good friend."

So it was a date. A date with no long-term strings attached. Nicely played. "Oh, alright, why not?" It was just dinner, it wasn't like she was getting engaged.

"Zank you! Zank you zo very much!" She hopped up, offered an arm. She took it.

* * *

They're very good friends. That's it. That's all they are. Pals. Buddies. Companions. That's all they are and all they'll ever be: very good friends.

Very good friends that just _happen_ to go on dates.

She still goes out with other cats. Warlock cats, mostly, but cats with rich owners will do in a pinch. Either way, she's happy and always willing to ditch the lesser for the better.

And Sabrina knows. She'd be blind not too. She was who she was, a few dates wouldn't change that.

She didn't ignore it, either. More than a few dates were spent with her regaling on her other dates, the gold cat idly listening, sometimes commenting. Sometimes, when she _really_ didn't like a date, she'd go out of her way to chase them off. It didn't happen often, but those few times were quite... inventive.

* * *

Cutting through a side alleyway, Scheherazade flattened her ears against her head. She would have covered them, but one of her arms was firmly tucked into his own.

The tabby was... talkative. Annoyingly so. She'd hardly gotten two words in the entire date.

And worse, he was a me-talker. He did this, he did that, he was heaven sent. She was vain, and didn't bother hiding it, but this gave a new level to the term.

Barking forced them to jump. It was loud, overly done, and complimented every few yips with a howl. Obviously fake, but the tabby obviously believed it, and pushed her back with a paw. "Don't worry, darling." He puffed out his chest, stomped between the broken fence planks. "I'll get rid of this _interruption_." She rolled her eyes.

Hissing, then a scuffle. She heard clawing and yowling and hissing and spitting and soon the tabby was running down the street, not even bothering to give his 'date' one last glance to check her health as he ran down the street.

"Coward." Sabrina drawled, stepped out of the fence and leaning against the plank. "No_ proper_ date would leave their other behind."

"You ruined my date." She crossed her arms, tapped a foot.

"Many apologizes." She bowed jokingly. "But ze date had been ruined before I arrived."

"Hmph." Sabrina held out an arm, hoping to escort her to safety. Scheherazade pushed her back.

"You can make up for it by buying me dinner."

She smiled. "Anything for you, Princess."

* * *

Yowwwl.

She covered her ears. Her date followed suit. "What is_ that_?"

Yowwl, hiss.

Sabrina. "A... friend of mine." She gritted her teeth.

Longer, louder. YOWWL.

"Ugh, that's it! Call me when your 'friend' learns to be quiet!" He stepped out the door. "Good night!" He slammed it shut.

Sighing, she leaned against the open window. "Are you determined to get rid of _any_ chance I have to become human again!?"

A yellow head popped into the window. She leaned her head against her paw, the other resting on the windowsill. "If it means making sure your _boyfriend_ is a good cat, than yes."

* * *

Ring. Ring.

"Ignore it." She urged. "It's probably not important."

Ring. Ring. Ring.

The French cat (whom she didn't know was French until _after_ she agreed on the date.) frowned. "Maybe we should..."

"No, really, it's noth-"

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.

Grunting irritably, the cat picked up the phone. "Hello?"

A burst of noise made them jump. It was French, crudely spoken and without the proper accent, but it was French nonetheless. And while Scheherazade didn't understand much of it (her French was more than a little rusty) the tom understood the babble of, well, whatever it was, perfectly.

Dropping the phone, he stared at the receiver as though it was poison. "You're friends... say things like that!?"

"Friend? Oh, it must be..." Who to introduce her as? Frenchie? Sabrina? "An old boyfriend."

"Some boyfriend! I've met dogs with better attitudes!" The rambling continued. "I won't listen to this!" He stomped out the door.

"_Sabrina_." She picked up the phone, hissed into the receiver. The rambling stopped. She could just _see_ the sheepish grin.

"I've been practicing."

* * *

But it was only a matter of time before Sabrina confronted her, she knew.

The day came after one of her few good 'dates.' The tom was good, kind, not that talkative. Perfect.

Stomping her home right after he'd left, and quite possibly bumping into him in the hallway, she stomped over to where she was brushing her tail fur flat with her paws.

"Did you know that ze tom you were just seeing has kittens?"

"So?"

"So!? How could you zay 'So'?" She crossed her arms. "It's bad enough I've had to watch you go out with married cats, but now you're going to go out with one with a wife _and_ kittens!?"

Sabrina and her love of children. She'd almost forgotten. "I'm done." She grunted, spinning around and marching towards the door. "We're not very good friends. Not anymore."

"Fine!" She was yelling back. Why was she yelling? "Go away, you stupid dolt!" She slammed the door shut. "And don't come back!"

* * *

"Would you like to dance?"

"Huh?" Scheherazade looked up. The tom offered a paw.

"Dance?"

She glanced at the empty chair next to her. Any other time, someone would be with her. But.. that _person_ didn't matter anymore. "Of course." She took the paw, stood up, headed to the dance floor.

* * *

Maybe it was a jealousy thing, or perhaps it was habit, but she walked her dates by the Spellman house every chance she got.

Let her see, for all she cared! Let her glance out her window late one night to see her parading her newest toy down the street. Let her get jealous, turn into Frenchie, and confront her. Let her pick a fight, get her butt kicked, and be forced to watch as her ex-very-good-friend was swept away.

But no one ever confronted her. No curtains ever shifted, no lights ever turned on. Part of her wondered if Sabrina had moved at some point without telling her. She _was_ an adult after all, she could move out if she wanted too.

"Hey." She sits down next to the cat. It's a girl, and that's fine. She's in no mood to deal with a tom. "How's your night been?"

"A-alright." She squeaks, not expecting her new companion. "That's my boyfriends seat."

"Oh, it is? Sorry." She hopped off. Any other day, she would have rolled her eyes. She just wasn't interested in getting into a fight. Not tonight. "Some boyfriend, leaving you on your lonesom-" A hand tapped her shoulder. She turned, then looked up. "What? Oh..."

* * *

She turned the corner, raced by the side of the house. The snarling _beast_ (completely mortal, but still powerful. And too thickheaded to charm) pounded along behind her, barking and snarling.

Of _course_ she'd managed to pick out the only cat known to man that was dating a dog. It was karma, she swore, the two had always been one opposite sides. This was its way of messing with her for messing around.

It wasn't like she couldn't take him. One snap of the fingers and he'd be barbecued mutt on a stick. But, as she'd said earlier, she was in no mood for a fight. That, and her magic levels were low... What? She'd missed a few days sleep! (Days that weren't spent missing blue eyes and gold fur) it'd messed with her already low supply.

"Crud." The alley way was a dead end. She should have known, most of the alley ways in this area _were_ dead-ended. She whipped around. "Alright, you mangy mutt!" The beast (whatever his name was) stalked closer. She raised a paw "You think you can beat me this easily!? Why I ought to-!"

"Hey! Leave her be!" He whipped around. Sabrina cracked her knuckles. "That is no way to be treating a women!"

He snarled, then charged. They disappeared into a pile of dust, scratching and biting and growling and hissing.

The dog high-tailed to the hills, tail between his legs. Sabrina clapped the dust off her paws. "This was your fault, no?"

"I could have handled myself." She sniffed. It _was_ her fault, she'd been the one to prod him and _attempt_ to flirt with his girlfriend, but she didn't care. How _dare_ Sabrina come and save the day!? How_ dare_ she act like nothing had changed!?

She waved her paws "Oui, oui, I know. But I was to angry to stand on ze sidelines. _No one_ should treat a lady like zhat, even if they aren't the best of people."

"Are you_ insulting_ me!?" She shrugged. Scheherazade thought over her words. "Wait.. How did you know I insulted him? Have you been _following_ me!?"

"No, no,_ never_. But... many of our hangouts are ze same, you zee? Sometimes I got the glance of you with your dates."

She blinked. "I never noticed."

"Because I hid myself. Full witch powers, remember? I made zure no one could sense me. A safety precaution, you might say."

"So you were following me." She crossed her arms.

She sheepishly smiled, nodded, raising her paws next to her head in A 'what can you do?' sort of way. "I have been worried. Ze cats you have with are... how you say? 'Sleezeballs?'"

She bit her tongue. She wasn't about to admit that she'd _known_ that. Sabrina already knew. She didn't have to say it.

"Shall we go?"

She held out her arm.

"We shall."

She took it.

And that was that.

* * *

"I've bought myself a house."

Scheherazade glanced up from her meal. "You did?"

Sabrina, comfortably resting on top of some old crates, arms tucked beneath her head, legs propped, tail swishing in the breeze, nodded. "And I was thinking, you have no real home, right? All ze hopping around you do, it's because you need the money for a home, right?"

"Partly." She lied, rolling her eyes. She was starting to become less and less interested in toms and more and more interested in Sabrina. It must be because she was starting to hit her next mid-life crisis. What other explanation was there?

"Well then, would you like too move in with me?" She hopped off the crates, lightly grabbed her hand. "My house isn't the best. It's falling apart and dusty. But it's big, and, if you want, it can be your home for as long as you need- or want it- to be."

Days later, she found herself in front of the large old house, suitcases piled at her feet.

And she didn't regret a thing.

* * *

Sabrina was an awkward dancer, and that made her giggle.

Loosening her shoulders, the blond smiled back at her date. "What's so funny?"

"I feel like I'm dancing with a statue." They twirled, narrowly avoiding colliding feet. "A clunky statue, at that."

"Sorry." She tried to loosen her legs. They retightened. "I'm trying my best."

"You're doing fine." Another twirl. "Just make sure not to step on anyone's feet."

"Right." She nudged her feet back a few paces, focused her eyes on the floor.

"Don't stare at the floor, it's not lady-like." She chides. One last twirl, they separated. Spinning, she collided with a burly chest. The tome smiled charmingly down at her. He held a hand out.

"Dance?"

She glanced at the hand, at him, then at the disapproving cat standing a few feet away. Dance with someone experienced or teach the clumsy half-witch?

She pushed him away. "Move it buster, _I'm_ already on a date." Sabrina beamed. The tom backed away, paws up.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"Maybe you should have looked before you leapt." She retorted, restarting the dance with her partner.

"You did zat just for me?" She batted her eyelashes. "I'm smitten."

And it was the truth. Sabrina played it off as a joke, she played it off as a joke, but they both knew better.

* * *

They've been dating for five years. _Yes_, she said dating. The toms slowly disappeared, one by one, bore by bore. She's sick of all the me-talkers, so she was taking a quick (four year) break to focus on one relationship. No big, right?

She hadn't moved out, either. She had plenty of money, but she couldn't get the urge to leave. It was too... _homey_, for her to want to leave.

But that wasn't important. What _was_ important was Sabrina on one knee, eyes fixed to the floor. And it wasn't a _dinner_ she was offering.

"Scheherazade... will you marry me?"

Her jaw dropped. "You're... You're not joking? You're... really asking _me_ to marry _you_?"

The blonde winced. "I didn't think you would agree. But... I love you, and I want to be vith you. If you don't want too, then that is fine. I didn't think you would agree..." She started to stand up. She grabbed her shoulders, stared.

She'd asked her to... to... to marry! _No one_, in all her years, had asked her to marry. None that she'd truly cared for, at least. But this... this was different._ Sabrina_ was different.

"I'm not asking you not to go out with others. You won't change, and I don't vant you too. Date whoever you like, but, in return, I can date whoever I like as well."

Did she want to get married? She'd gotten plenty of offers, _obviously_, but her heart had never been in them. She smiled.

"On one condition." He ears perked up. "You ask me_ without_ that stupid accent."

She won't cheat, she knows it deep down. Sabrina won't either, it wasn't her nature. The idea of _agreeing_ to the mere _idea_ makes her chest hurt. She wants to monopolize the cat, make sure she never dates anyone else. And she never would, lest something go very wrong between them.

Sabrina smiled, repeated the offer _without_ the accent. She agreed with a smile, then pulled her in for a kiss.

* * *

"Are you ready?" She asks.

"Of course." The veil felt weightless, her jewelry like feathers. How could one be so happy_ just_ because they were getting married?

But Sabrina seemed somber, arms crossed and tail twitching. "You do know that I can't break your spell, right? You need a_ warlock_ to do that."

"Mmhmm." She fiddled with the bouquet. Simple garden flowers, but they somehow fit better than any other type of flower out there.

"And that you can't marry anyone else while you're with me, right? They'd recognize you in a heartbeat."

"_Sabrina_... I'm no fool."

She turned sheepish, but no one could deny the spark of happiness shining in her gaze. "I know, I know. Can't be too careful though."

"Sabrina... would you do me a favor?"

"Of course." She twitched a finger for her to come closer. She obliged. She whispered into her ear. The gold cat jumped back, stared.

"Are... are you sure? The height difference..."

"I'm not marrying Frenchie." She pointed out. "Yes, I'm sure."

"Alright..." She drew the word out warily, snapped her fingers. Gone was Frenchie. Sabrina took her hand.

"You'll just have to crouch down during the ceremony." Scheherazade joked. Sabrina chuckled, but did just that.

* * *

"Court date?" Sabrina glanced up from the letter at hand. Scheherazade tapped her foot. "What did you do to get yourself called into the witches court?"

"Er, nothing." She rolled the paper up (parchment with 'court summons date' written on big gold letters on the top. How inconspicuous) "It's nothing, really."

She raised an eyebrow, snatched the paper away. "Ow!" She waved her hand. "You clawed my hand!"

"Serves you right." She sniffed, unfolding the paper. She looked it over, muttering under her breath as she read. "'Soliciting with a traitor'!? What tra-" She paused, frowning bitterly. "Oh. They mean me."

"Yeah, they do." She shrugged awkwardly.

She read the if-sentenced punishment, reread it. Her frown lowered into a snarl. "They want to turn you into a _cat_!?"

It was plain as day. 'Will be sentenced to 500-1,000 years a feline if found guilty.' "How _dare_ they!? When I get through with them, they'll wish they were never born!" She rerolled the paper, gathered her energy, and turned to teleport.

"Scheherazade, relax." She grabbed her shoulder. "I can get out of this. I've helped them out a lot over the years, _and_ I know a good lawyer. "

She clenched her fists. "Had it been _anyone_ else, they would have let it slide. But no, they just _had_ to get revenge over there husbands infidelities." She whapped the paper with her paw. "And of all the ways to do it!" She heaved a sigh, the anger (the fatal part of it, at least) dissipating. "I'm coming with you."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

* * *

The judge loomed (quite literally) over his court room. The jury whispered amongst themselves. At one table, the representative of the witches council sat, smug, attorney seated next to him. At the other, Sabrina slipped her hands into her companions, squeezed.

"The jury had decided. Sabrina Spellman's sentence is to be lowered to ten to twelve years on account of her mortal life expectancy. Otherwise, however, she is considered guilty." The gavel hit the sound block.

Cat Sabrina was around the looks of Frenchie, the overly-done accent and clothes were gone, her tail bushier, and her head more femininely shaped. She looked herself over, sighed, then looked back at Scheherazade.

"My aunts are gonna _kill_ me."

* * *

"I can't believe we lost." Scheherazade spat.

"At least the sentence was lowered." She pointed out. "I'm more used to being a cat anyway. Ten to twelve years will go by in no time."

"I _suppose_." She glanced her over, smiled. She grabbed her arm, pulled her to her side. "But there is _one_ good thing about all of this..."

She gulped. "W-what's that?"

The smile turned into a smirk. "Now I can show you _my_ type of date."

Sabrina blushed.

**No flames! Don't like don't read! Review!**


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